Introduction:
What does it mean to be homeless? My home is
not only a roof over my head. It is my anchor, a source
of stability, a refuge from a world that is at times
both stressful and alienating. When I go away it is
the place I know I can return, in my thoughts when I
am homesick, in reality when my travels are through.
Because I am young, healthy and able to work I support
this home. I have friends and family for other kinds
of support. In this way I am privileged. If I became
sick and incapacitated mentally or physically, if for
some reason I could not support myself, who would take
care of me? My friends and family might look out for
me for awhile, but they have their own lives, and their
own problems. What if my condition of joblessness or
disability was serious and long lasting? The thought
of being forced to rely on public charities is chilling.
So it was with some apprehension that a few years ago
I agreed to take a job teaching a recreational art class
at the Shelter Care Center for Women in New York City.
This center houses women who are, for a variety of reasons,
without financial support or a place to live. My own
worst fears about homelessness were heightened by this
tangible manifestation of reality for those who could
not provide for themselves, but it was through my work
there that I began to understand something about the
lives of the women in the shelter and the prospects
for all women in a society that does not adequately
provide for the weak and the powerless.
The
women at this residence were often in a crisis situation
in their lives. Alcoholism, mental illness, evictions,
family quarrels, mismanagement on welfare and lost or
stolen funds had left them homeless. Some were older
women suffering from physical illness and senility,
a few were battered wives escaping from husbands and
others were young girls running away from home or unable
to deal adequately with severe personal problems.
I
initially taught a class in painting and drawing, but
when some interest developed in using an old instamatic
camera, I was amazed at the response to the pictures
the women took. Some had not seen photographs of themselves
in twenty years. One woman peered intently at her image
for a long time and asked over and over again if that
was really her face. When I asked what she thought of
it, she replied, "If thats me, I didnt
know I looked that good." Using one broken camera
and a few rolls of film, women began photographing everything
in sight. This also opened up an opportunity for me
to begin taking a few pictures of them. We all looked
forward to seeing the results. We shared thoughts about
the portrayal of character and the meaning of images.
Our discussions were a relief from the boredom of institutional
life and brought the women together to discover new
interests and to relate to each other in new ways. The
excitement generated in the classes was an inspiration
for me to apply, then receive, a grant to teach an art
and photography class at the shelter. I received funds
for this purpose from the Metropolitan Museum in New
York and the Joint Foundation Support, Inc. The womens
work was exhibited at the Metropolitan Museum, Sirovich
Community Center and The Queens Public Library.
|